Killian's Best Form
by Heidi Erickson
Summary: How can Killian Jones, not Captain Hook, show his best form to the two people he loves the most, especially in the face of tragedy and pain?


_**Author's Note:** This was an AU idea I had back in S3 - what if Hook died instead of Neal? NOOOOOOO. :'-( This was based on the OUAT death spoilers from S3, in which basically the whole fandom was convinced that either Hook or Neal was going to die . . . and, well, you know who died. *Cries forever*_

_Pro-Swanfire AND Captain Swan! Say no to ship wars! #oncersbepositive_

_**Disclaimer:** I do not own OUAT._

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><p>The screeching of the winged monkeys faded away, and the howling wind dissipated quickly. Neal lowered his arm from shielding his face, and his other arm slowly released its grip on Emma, who laid still beneath him.<p>

"Emma?" He whispered, looking down cautiously to see if she was unhurt. Save for a bruise across her brow and a cut under her lip, she appeared unaffected by the maelstrom of winged monkeys that just had attacked. Her eyes widened as she glanced about the ship. Rubble was everywhere. The sails were ripped to shreds. The deck rails were soaked.

"Neal." She sighed in relief, only caring about him. She lowered her head and sank her face in his chest. Emotions rising up and threatening to choke him, Neal swallowed hard and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly.

"I just knew it was a good idea to leave Henry with Regina." Emma whispered, almost crying. Neal nodded, his cheek stroking against her soft hair. But a thought suddenly occurred to him. "_Hook,_" he breathed, eyes widening in realization.

"Hook?" Emma pulled away slightly and looked up at him with concern. The silent message instantly passed between them, and they leaped to their feet. Hook had just been protecting them from the winged monkeys. How ever did he finally fend them off?

"_Hook!_" They shouted, calling for the pirate who had captained this ship and brought them into this strange land of Oz.

The sky was gray and bleak with mist, and a fog started swirling in. But Neal and Emma swept through the rubble, pushing away fallen masts, shoving aside chains and ropes, and yanking away any debris that laid in their way.

"Help," a faint voice croaked out. Neal glanced down at a long plank of torn wood next to him. A silver metal hook stuck out of it. Relief flooded him. "_Killian!_" He cried as he grabbed the plank and carefully lifted it, revealing a bloody, bruised pirate sprawled on the deck floor. He emitted a painful groan. "Baelfire," he rasped, his bright eyes softening with relief.

"_No,_" Neal gasped softly, horror stabbing him in the stomach as he saw that part of the plank had driven through Hook's good hand and then his lower abdomen.

Emma hopped over obstacles and reached the two men. She gulped in fear, her brow furrowing as she noticed Hook's wounds. She and Neal knelt down, at either side of Hook. Emma rook Hook's impaled hand and gingerly raised it to see the damage on his abdomen. Hook released a strangled cry of pain. "Emma," he groaned, "Leave it. Just … leave it."

"Hold on," Neal squeezed his shoulder firmly, "I'm going to compress your wound with my shirt, keep it from bleeding more."

"No," Hook shook his head, then winced. "It's too late. I know it."

"Don't say that," Emma commanded sharply, but her voice cracked slightly. Even Neal had the sinking feeling that his positivism was for naught.

"_Emma …_ " Hook almost raised his hand to touch her face, but then left it lying. The pain was too much for him to move anything. " … I'm sorry."

"For what, Killian?" Emma demanded, tears starting to form in her eyes.

"For every hurting you … for any reason I ever caused you grief or pain." Hook whispered. His upturned hand was able to take the ends of her long golden hair and rub them lightly between his thumb and finger.

Neal noticed the tender gesture, but allowed it, knowing this was to be Killian's last moments with the woman he loved. He started to pull away, to let them have a private moment together. But then a hook thrust up, wound under his half-unbuttoned shirt, and drew him back. Killian's eyes met his.

Neal's mind brought up the day they first bonded, when Hook used his name appendage to yank him close at his side and teach him to steer a ship. That moment where Neal almost felt like he had a family again, like he had a father again. That bright, sunny day when the weather was warm and breezy, and the sea glittered a brilliant blue.

_Baelfire gazed out at the horizon as his fists closed around the wheel, feeling the grooves and lines beneath his fingers, remembering the way his own father had let his hand free, remembering his father clenching that dagger, choosing his magic over his own son._

_And Killian Jones, not Captain Hook, could feel his sadness. He pushed aside the fact that this boy was the Dark One's son, he dismissed his quest for vengeance, for once, to focus on the boy next to him. Milah's own son, and Killian decided that if his vendetta to seek revenge should ever put Baelfire in danger, Killian would abandon that vendetta completely. The boy needed a father more than the pirate needed revenge._

From the sad, gentle look in Killian's eyes, it appeared that he was thinking of the same thing. After a silent moment, Killian cleared his throat slightly, "Baelfire, I owe you an apology … " He frowned slightly, retracing his words, " … No. I owe you every apology. For allowing your mother to leave you … and trying to use you to seek revenge against your father. Giving you up to the Lost Boys. And … and … " he sighed heavily, and groaned from yet another wave of pain. " … I'm so sorry for … everything, Baelfire. I … I won't ask you for your forgiveness. I … I know I don't deserve it."

All sorts of emotions started raging within Neal: anger, despair, pride, relief, gratefulness, compassion … love. "You already have my forgiveness, Killian." He spoke in a quiet, quivering voice. "I've forgiven you a while ago. I just didn't know what you'd say if I told you before, so I … I just never said anything."

Killian's lips quirked up in a small smile. "I know I haven't shown good form in my character before … but I probably would've said the same things I did. I haven't shown it, but I have never stopped caring for you, Baelfire. Believe me." The smile faded, and the light started dimming in his blue eyes.

"I believe you." Neal nodded, his brow jerking together slightly in efforts to keep his tears at bay. Emma looked up at him and reached over for Neal's hand, and he grabbed it, grasping it tightly, but not so that he would hurt her.

With what seemed to be the final pieces of his strength, Hook's severely damaged hand came up and placed itself over Neal and Emma's entwined hands, and slowly pushed them down on his chest. Killian's hand was bloody, a ghastly sight, but Neal and Emma didn't care.

They let Killian's forefinger and thumb stroke their hands tenderly. "Baelfire … and Emma Swan … you take … good care of each other … " he gazed to and fro between them, giving them a simple, yet heartfelt order.

"We will." Emma nodded with promise, glancing with Neal briefly with all the love and grief she felt in her eyes and Neal could only do the same.

" … This is … this is how I do want to … spend my final moments." Killian spoke up, his voice raspy and weakening. " … With … with the two people … I love … the most. That … is … the best form."

Then his eyes closed, and he breathed no more.

Emma's tears started running down her face, and Neal pulled her close, lifting her over Hook's body and then settling her body against his chest. Emma cupped his neck with one arm and encircled his back with the other, and Neal buried his face in her neck. He wasn't the type to cry … but now his own tears started slipping down his cheeks and moistening Emma's neck. Feeling the coolness of his tears, Emma snuggled closer and rubbed his back.

_Thank you, Killian. I'll never forget you._ Neal gazed at Hook's motionless body, and then shut his eyes, letting the grief and anger he had felt towards him all those years slip away like a single drop in a waterfall.

_I'll never forget._

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><p><em><strong>Author's Note:<strong> *Hands you tissues and ice cream* I'm sorry. Cry at me in the comments; it's okay._


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